by Laura Wright
The parking lot was empty, and good thing too, because the moment she walked in the door, she called out “Steven Paul Shiver?” in a tone that was anything but professional and respectful.
The River Black jail was basically an outpost. The sheriff and sheriff’s deputy serviced several small towns in the county, and about ten years back they’d built the three-cell space so people didn’t have to make the trek out to Mason whenever there was a drunken situation or a petty theft.
Emily glanced around but saw no one and headed straight for her brother’s office. Steven was sitting at his desk, focused on paperwork and drinking a Coke that was beaded with sweat. When he looked up he smiled as if nothing was out of order in the world.
“Afternoon, sis.”
“Are you insane?” she accused, walking right up to his desk and planting her hands on the wood top.
He pretended to mull the question over. “I don’t think so.” He motioned to the chair beside her. “Would you like to have a seat?”
She ignored him. “You arrested Blue?”
“He’s not under arrest. Yet.”
Clearly, Steven had lost his mind. “You can’t do that,” she warned him.
“Of course I can,” he countered, as arrogant as all get-out. “Your baby daddy was speeding.”
“Shut up,” she hissed, her stomach lurching. She glanced over her shoulder. The goddamned door to the office was open.
“Don’t worry, sis,” he said, his tone softening a touch. “Rick ain’t here. He’s on patrol. Only you and me—and, well . . .” He knocked his chin toward the door.
Emily could practically hear her anger. It was blood, hot and heavy, pounding in her ears. “If he was speeding, then you give him a ticket and send him on his way.” She pointed a finger at him. “And don’t call him my”—she lowered her voice and whispered through tightly clenched teeth—“baby daddy.”
“It’s what he is, Em.” One brow lifted. “Right?”
“Of course right,” she ground out. “But that’s not the point.”
Steven sat back in his chair and shrugged. “Listen, he was going a good ten/fifteen miles over the speed limit. In this town, I have the right to bring him in.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you ever taken someone in for ten or fifteen miles over, Steven?”
The question was rhetorical. Of course he hadn’t. Waste of time and resources. But he was going to keep playing his cards. “Wasn’t safe, Em. What if he had you in his truck? Or the baby?”
“Shh! Dammit.” Teeth still tightly clenched, she stalked over to the door and slammed it shut.
“He can’t hear you,” Steven scolded, his eyes filled with humor.
A thought suddenly flickered through Emily’s mind, and just like that she felt breathless. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? The second her brother’s text came in? Steven was being so damn cavalier. Her eyes narrowed on him.
“What?” he said.
“You told him, didn’t you?”
“Who? Perez?”
“Yes, of course, Perez. You told him I was pregnant.”
“No.”
“Steven Paul Shiver,” she said in her best big-sister I’m-going-to-pound-you voice.
“I promised you I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I haven’t.”
A thread of relief moved through her, though she wasn’t altogether sure she believed him. “Then why is he here?”
“Because, Em”—he leaned forward, his eyes devoid of all humor now—“you’re going to tell him.”
The blood drained from Emily’s face. She could actually feel it. Feel the pale coldness invade her skin. “Damn you, Steven,” she nearly growled. “This isn’t any of your business.”
“Like hell,” he shot back. He pointed at her stomach. “That’s my niece or nephew you got cooking in there.”
“You’re such an ass. And don’t be gross.”
“And don’t you be stubborn. You need to tell him the truth, Emmie.”
“Not in a jail cell, I don’t.”
He shrugged. “It’s the nice one.”
“Not funny.”
With a sigh of frustration, he opened the desk drawer to his left and pulled out a set of keys. “No one’s around. Not for at least an hour.” He held them out to her. “Tell him.” His lips turned up at the corners. “And if he tries to bolt, I’ll be here to take him down.”
“You can’t be serious about this.”
“I am. That man’s not going anywhere until you tell him. Your choice.”
Sickened, Emily stared at her brother. He was one hundred percent serious, and she wondered if he’d actually tell Blue in the end, or their mom and dad, if she refused. One thing she did know was that she’d never forgive him if he went there and ratted on her—well, maybe that wasn’t exactly true; they were blood . . . but she’d be furious.
Walk into a cell? Face the man she hadn’t seen in three weeks—hadn’t seen since she was in his bed . . . ? Oh God. She could faint. This was bullshit. What was she going to do?
“God, I hate being related to law enforcement,” she growled, snatching up the keys and heading for the door.
“Don’t say that,” Steven called to her back. “Might come in handy someday.”
Her heart slamming fiercely inside her chest, Emily walked out of the office and headed for the small trio of cells in the back of the building. She knew where it was only because Steven had done something similar two years ago when Jeremy had gotten drunk at a party and thought he was capable of driving himself home. One of his friends had called Steven, and Jeremy had spent the night in the jail puking his guts out into a bucket while listening to Emily and Steven go off on him for his stupidity.
Oh God, this was insanity. She couldn’t do this. And yet, she kept going, kept walking. Until that night, she’d never been one to run from things. Hard things. Her parents had taught her better. Face your problems. Fix your problems. Move on. But she hadn’t come across a problem like this. And when a man is clearly making love to you because he’s pissed off and trying to forget another woman, well . . . you leave.
Dammit, every inch of her was shaking with nerves. And it only worsened when the first cell came into view. She stopped about five feet away and just took a moment to look at the man inside—the man whom she hadn’t seen for three weeks—except in her mind, and her dreams . . . memories. Just because his reasons for wanting her hadn’t been what she would’ve liked, it didn’t make the experience any less amazing. Or erotic. Or fulfilling.
He was standing in one corner, head down, boots crossed at the ankle. He looked dirty. But the good kind of dirty. Cowboy dirty. Jeans caked in mud, boots worn and caked in mud. Faded red shirt. He looked up then and caught her standing there, staring. For one brief moment, Emily hoped she might see something in his eyes that said he was glad to see her. But instead, his face was dark with anger, like he’d had a lot of time to think.
She swallowed hard and wished she was anywhere else.
He didn’t move. Just crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her. “Emily Shiver.”
“I’m so sorry about this,” she said, coming over to his cell.
“I believe your brother’s gone crazy.”
“I know.” She thrust the key in the lock and opened the door. Maybe she really wouldn’t forgive Steven. Blood or no blood.
“What does he think happened between us?” Blue asked, remaining where he was, despite the open door. “What did you tell him?”
Her gut churned. “What do you mean?”
He gave her a look that said, Come on, now. “I should be online paying a speeding ticket, not hanging out in a cage.” He stared at her, his gorgeous face all hard angles, his eyes an incredible shock of blue. “This was personal.”
“He just thinks we hung out . . . ,” she said with forced ease.
“Hung out,” he repeated.
“He’s protective,” she continued. “Overly protective.”
“It’s a brother thing,” she finished stupidly.
His eyes flashed and he looked past her, down the hall. “Yeah, well, wouldn’t know about that.”
Her heart stuttered. God, she was really screwing this up. And she didn’t want to. It was the first time she was seeing him in weeks, since . . . “I’m so sorry, Blue. It won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Appreciate that.” He pushed away from the wall and walked up to her. For just a moment, his gaze rested on hers and a strange softness touched his expression. “It’s good to see you.”
Her heart pinched inside her ribs. “Yeah. You too.”
It was in that moment that Emily remembered how it felt to be close to this man. To be touched by him, regardless of the reason. How his skin smelled and had felt under her hands.
“You all right?” he asked, his gaze concerned.
The question caught her by surprise. Lord, was she all right? Probably not. She was pretty much a confused and scared mess. Tell him. Tell him, you moron. “Sure. ’Course.”
“And work?”
“Same,” she said, her voice near to a whisper. “You should stop in sometime.” God, she was an idiot.
His eyes darkened and his lips parted. “I don’t know . . .”
“I just mean if you’re thirsty,” she rambled on stupidly, then instantly wished she could take it back—or crawl into one of the cells and lock herself in.
“I should probably steer clear of bars for a while.”
Her gut tightened. Right. Sounded wise. Sounded like a pretty clear message too.
“Then again,” he amended, “it was nice having you take me home.”
Or a mixed message? “It was nice being there,” she offered.
“And yet, you left.”
She watched the shadow creep across his face. He didn’t trust her. Hell, he didn’t know her. Had slept with her, but didn’t know her. “I . . . It was a confusing situation. I felt—”
“It’s fine,” he cut her off, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. We all make bad decisions, right? Rash decisions—”
His words bit her heart, causing pain to flicker inside her. She didn’t think he was meaning to be insulting. Granted, he didn’t know what was going on. He was angry about the arrest. But it hurt to know he thought that night was a mistake.
Of course, hadn’t she kind of thought the same thing when she was throwing on her clothes and rushing out of his house?
“Well, well. Glad to see you didn’t bolt, Perez.” Steven’s voice echoed down the hall as he came toward them.
Her heart dropped. “Steven, wait—”
“Your sister was kind enough to let me out,” Blue replied, his tone cooling further as he turned to regard the man.
“Wouldn’t want the daddy of my niece or nephew to have an arrest record, now, would I?” Steven said, then stopped short and asked, “You don’t have one already, do you? I didn’t even think to look.”
“Oh my God,” Emily breathed, panic filling her blood. This wasn’t it. Wasn’t right. How could she turn back time?
“It’s all right, Em,” Steven said casually.
“I can’t believe you,” she ground out. She couldn’t even look Blue’s way.
“Come on, now. The man gets why I had to do what I—”
“Shut up, Steven,” Emily growled. “Damn you.”
He stalled out, confused. “What?”
She had to. She just had to. Every inch of her skin tight, Emily glanced up at Blue, and when she saw the look on his face she wanted to die. No, she wanted to run. Again. He was staring at her. He looked like someone had punched him in the face. Confused, shocked, pissed . . . but worst of all, betrayed.
Then his gaze shifted to Steven. “You going to book me, Sheriff?”
Realizing what he’d walked in and spat all over without thinking, her brother cursed, then shook his head. “You’re free to go. Don’t worry about the speeding ticket. I’ll take care of it.”
“Yeah, you will.” And without another word, his body and expression tight with fury, Blue brushed past them and headed down the hall.
Her mind racing, her pulse jumping around inside her blood, Emily stared at his retreating frame.
“Ah, Christ, Emmie,” Steven said, shaking his head. “You didn’t do it?”
Her eyes cut to him. “You’re a jackass,” she growled at him.
“And you’re a coward,” he returned.
“Maybe so. But you had no right to do this. To interfere. No matter what the reason.”
“Well, what’s done is done. He knows now.”
That I’m pregnant. And he’d truly found out in the worst way imaginable. She had to do something about it. She had to find him and talk to him.
“Don’t you follow me,” she warned her brother as she pushed past him.
“Wouldn’t dare,” he said on a sigh as Emily took off down the hall.
* * *
A few hours ago, he’d been fine. Decent. Doing his job. Minding his business. Thinking about the fifty head of cattle he’d just ordered. And then in his rearview come lights and a siren—then cuffs and a jail cell—then . . . Christ, the words . . .
He couldn’t make sense of it. Was it true? Could it be true? A sneer came quick to his lips as he pushed open the front door to the jail and headed out into the bright fall sunshine. What he knew was that Blue Perez Cavanaugh couldn’t recognize truth if it bit him on the ass. He was damaged that way.
Maybe the sheriff was just messing with him for spending the night with his sister.
“Blue!”
Shit. Her voice reached out to him as he headed toward town. Walking was about all he could do with his truck being still parked on the side of the highway. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to look at her. She was too damn soft. Too eager. Too beautiful. Just like she’d been that night.
His jaw tightened.
That goddamned night.
But the woman caught up with him anyway. Keeping pace with him, breathing heavy. It shouldn’t have bothered him. But it did. The idea of her running, being out of breath. He growled to himself. Hell, wasn’t that kind of thing dangerous for a growing baby . . . ?
“Go back,” he ground out. “I got nothing to say to you.”
“Well, I have plenty to say to you,” she returned. And with that, she broke ahead and got directly in his path. Made him stop short. “And afterward I can take you wherever you need to go.”
“What I need is for you to get out of my way,” he warned.
“Not gonna happen. You need to listen to me.”
“Oh, now I need to listen, huh?” he said. He glanced around. They were about two hundred yards from the police station. No businesses in this part of town except for a small feed store, which looked pretty quiet this time of day. “How long, Emily?”
His question surprised her. “What?”
“How long have you known?”
She bit her lip, looked down at the ground. “Not long. Just found out yesterday.”
His guts twisted. So it was true. It was fucking true. “And you tell your brother first,” he forced out.
“He found out by accident. I wasn’t going to tell anyone—”
“Is that right?” he interrupted caustically.
“Not what I mean, Blue.”
His brows lifted sardonically. “So you were going to tell me.”
“’Course I was going to tell you,” she said with passion. “After I had a chance to think, you know? Process. Make sure . . .”
She faltered. He didn’t like her faltering.
“Make sure of what?” he said tightly.
Looking flustered and uneasy, she turned away and stared at the feed store.
It was like someone was fisting h
is heart. Shit. He didn’t even think he had one anymore. “Make sure you wanted it?” he pressed. He’d meant the words to come out dark, a bleak accusation. Something that mimicked his mood and, fuck him, his fears. But it didn’t come out that way. The query was wrapped up in a blanket of unease.
Her eyes came back to him and they were solemn. “No.”
A flash of relief went through him. But it didn’t last long. “Or maybe make sure you wanted me as the daddy?”
“Blue, please stop . . .”
“Maybe you ain’t even sure it’s mine.” The words had rolled off his tongue with far too much ease. “Is that it, sweetheart?” he growled, leaning in, close to her face. “Not sure who the daddy might be?”
Her chin tilted up and her eyes took on a hardness he’d never seen before. “Wow.”
“Because you went home with me pretty easy.” He couldn’t seem to stop himself. It was like someone else, something else had taken over his brain and his tongue. “Date a lot of customers, do you?”
Her nostrils flared. “Boy, when I’m wrong, I’m wrong. I thought you were a good guy. I thought you were decent and upstanding—”
“Hey,” he broke in. “Before we start tossing insults back and forth, let’s remember who walked out on who.”
“First of all,” she began fiercely, “I didn’t go home with you. I took you home because you were too goddamned drunk to drive. Real smart and responsible, by the way. The staying part, I’ll take full responsibility for that.” She took one step closer, shoved her finger in his chest. “And I left because you made it very clear I was only there to take away the memory of your ex-girlfriend.”
Blue felt the blood drain from him. What was she talking about? Why would she think that? And ex-girlfriend—
Suddenly, his gaze caught on something over her shoulder. A figure in the doorway of the feed store. He narrowed his eyes. What is that . . . Without thinking, he moved, placing himself in front of Emily. The figure disappeared inside the barn, but Blue swore he saw the retreating frame of Natalie Palmer.
“Blue.” Emily exhaled heavily. “Look, I don’t want to argue. Or toss insults back and forth. We both acted foolishly that night. Let’s just agree to that.”